


Under the Bleachers, Out In the Hall. Any Where Is Fine With Me

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Coming Out, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-01
Updated: 2013-05-01
Packaged: 2017-12-10 02:01:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/780482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dylan O'Brien did not expect to confirm his long suspected gayness-and/or-bisexuality by getting a hand job under the bleachers</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the Bleachers, Out In the Hall. Any Where Is Fine With Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Under the Bleachers square on my [TeenWolfBingo](http://teenwolf-bingo.livejournal.com/) card.

Dylan O'Brien did not expect to confirm his long suspected gayness-and/or-bisexuality by getting a hand job under the bleachers from his high-school baseball team's super-hot, broody looking shortstop, three days into his junior year. Dylan was pretty sure that getting _kissed_ by super-hot-and-broody would have worked just as well, Not that he was complaining about the hand job or anything. Because, not an idiot. He could have lived with out his best friends Mom catching them at it though.

Dylan was also completely sure the horrified sound Hoechlin made right before he RAN AWAY was going to stick with him for a while too.

Dylan tried not to take it personally, because.... Okay he couldn't think of a reason why. It seemed pretty personal. And also fuck Tyler Hoechlin and the closet he ran back into. Dylan O'Brien wasn't hiding ANYTHING. He never had. This seemed like a really poor time to start. 

In retrospect the bright pink t-shirt with FAG written across the front (in rainbow sparkle puff paint) might have been a bit over the top, as far as coming out gestures went. At least it earned him the rest of the day off from school to think about it. 

Despite being sent home from school almost immediately, his Mom and Dad were more on the 'resigned' end of the response than the much less pleasant 'pissed off' end. So that was okay.

Posey didn't care. Well he _cared_. He didn't _mind_ , proven by the fact that he brought over the new Resident Evil immediately after school let out and stayed until his Mom called.  
So that was okay too.

Holland phoned from New York to congratulate him on finally growing some balls. He laughed when she asked him if that meant their love affair was over and demanded he send her a picture of himself in the T-shirt. So that was mostly okay too.

 

****

Dylan went back to school the next day minus the t-shirt. Trying not to think too hard on what the fall-out was going to be. It went pretty much as he expected. Some people were bigger assholes than usual. Some people who had never spoken to him before gave him thumbs up in the halls and some people didn't give a shit.

Sure, he heard some shit being talked when he walked down the hall but that was nothing new, some people were just assholes and took every available opportunity to prove it.

Dylan could admit that he might possibly be the tiniest bit interested in what Hoechlin's reaction was. He was not above admitting he had done it partly to thumb his nose at the douche-bag.

The problem was that Tyler had evaporated. Gone. Poof. Not to be seen, at least not by Dylan. Fine what ever. Asshole.

****

What little drama there had died down after a couple of days. Which was awesome. Plus he saw Hoechlin had crept out from under his rock, but by then Dylan was over the whole thing because fuck Tyler Hoechlin for leaving him hanging and running away like a terrified rabbit. There were plenty of guys, and maybe a few girls, who would have no problem getting caught under the bleachers messing around with Dylan.  
He just had to find them.

Dylan assumed that Tyler running away from him was the end of … what ever they had been doing under the bleachers. Until later in the week. 

He was at his locker swapping out textbooks for his second class when he heard the guys next to him snickering.

“Fucking Hoechlin! Did you see that fucking shirt he was wearing? Guys asking to get his ass kicked.”

“Ha yeah right! By who's fucking army? 'Sides it's a joke or something right?” 

Dylan was aware the whole group was side-eying _him_ but he was a big fan of obliviousness today so he just slammed his locker shut and fucked off. He didn't miss the snickering from behind him though.

He just kept walking.

****

“Dude did you hear about Hoechlin?” was the first thing Posey said when they met up for lunch.

Of course.

“Uh. Sorta? What did he do exactly?”  
Posey just gave him a disbelieving look and dug out his phone. “Turns out you aren't the only one who favors...bold clothing related statements.” he said and held out his phone for Dylan to see.

There was a picture of Tyler-fucking-Hoechlin. Grinning. Wearing Dylan's pink shirt.

Only. That was impossible. Dylan knew for s fact that his shirt was at home on his computer desk. Due to his mom making him prove he wasn't wearing it under his button down or hiding it in his backpack. She had been very clear about the fact that she had no problem at all with either the shirt itself nor the sentiment it expressed. She did however have a problem with him getting anymore suspensions. So no pink shirt at school.

So. _HIS_ pink shirt was at home. Which meant that the shirt Tyler was wearing in the picture had to be one just like it. Which was also impossible, because Dylan had spent all day Saturday at Gage's house (under her unnecessarily snarky tutelage) making the damned thing. They had used half the shit in her craft tote. That shirt was well and truly one of a kind.

Only, apparently not. Because Hoechlin was wearing one in school that morning. It took him a second or two to decide how he felt about that. As soon as he thought about the guys at the locker next to him looking at him funny and talking about Hoechlin's 'joke' and decided to go with pissed right off. Maybe even livid. He didn't care much for being the butt of cruelly intentioned jokes. He liked hypocritical bullshit even less. Because lets be fucking real about who's hand was in who's pants here. Tyler's hand. On his cock. Not the other way around.  
The more he looked at that picture, the more he thought about the _asshole_ , the more pissed of he got.

“Uh... Dyl?” Posey's voice snapped him back to his surroundings. 

Dylan handed back the phone and stood up. “I. Gotta go. There's a … thing.” he said and took off. He heard Posey call him but just moved faster. 

He was going looking for Tyler-fucking-Hoechlin. And when he found him Dylan was seriously considering punching him in his hypocritical, phony, lying asshole face. Dylan didn't eve care that Tyler could snap him in half like a twig.

The problem was Dylan couldn't actually find the fucker. He clearly hadn't been in the cafeteria with all his asshole friends. He also wasn't at the ball field, the office, the library or any of the halls. The chicken-shit, rat-bastard was _hiding_. Which made Dylan REALLY mad. 

He was really looking forward to calling Tyler out on his bullshit, starting with him shoving a hand down Dylan's pants and ending with copying Dylan's fucking shirt so he could make fun of him in front of the whole school him.

Only now he couldn't find the asshole. Dylan had been REALLY looking forward to yelling all his frustration and unhappiness from the last week right in the face of the asshole who was responsible for a good portion of it.

Instead he'd searched the whole fucking school and found nothing and now he was standing in front of Hoechlin's locker and he still really wanted to fucking punch something. 

So he did. Punch something. He punched Tyler's locker in fact. Hard. It really fucking hurt. And made a lot of noise. Which made a bunch of teachers stick their heads out of the teachers lounge to see what was going. Which in turn meant it was time for Dylan to take off. Which he did. 

He kept right on going until he realized he was almost off school grounds which was only going to create more drama with his parents which he neither needed or wanted. Dylan changed course for the only place in school he had any hope of finding peace and space. 

The bleachers were like a ghost town unless there was a game on, which there was not. There were much better places to hide if you wanted to make out which was another reason he was pissed at that asshole because he had originally come here to think not get a fucking hand job from some closet case he had the miss fortune of having a long standing crush on. 

“I don't even know why that asshole was here.” he muttered just he got there.

“I was looking for _you_.” Tyler said from the shade where he was lurking.

“Jesus Fuck, you asshole! What the fuck are you _doing_ here!?” Dylan yelled clutching his chest.

“Waiting for you?”  
“What the fuck for? So you could wind me up and run away again? No thanks. Or maybe you want to try make a fool of my shirt again. Sorry dude, just wearing a boring button down today. Should make it easier to find one just like it though. Might like the _impact_ of last time though, hey?” The more he talked the louder he got and the closer he stalked to Tyler until they were nose to nose and it was all Dylan could do _not_ to punch him right in his pretty face.

Except the look on Tyler's face. He looked... really upset actually. Not like caught being a dick upset, but like really hurt feelings upset. Like maybe Dylan was the asshole here which was just stupid because Dylan was the guy who got left hanging when _Tyler_ ran away. Eyes, all big and sad and was his lip trembling a little? 

“What?” Dylan demanded unable to help the anger still obvious in his tone, even though at this point he was thinking an explanation might be more satisfying than punching anyone. Maybe. Besides his hand still hurt from the thing with the locker. He shook it out absently hoping to shake away some of the sting.

“You're hurt” Tyler said eyes locking on Dylan's hand.

“What do you care?” Dylan snapped. Maybe he sounded like a pissy kid, so sue him.

Tyler looked down at his feet “ I care.” he said

“Yeah? You got a funny way of showing it.”

“I know.” Tyler whispered' I'm-” Tyler looked back up at him then. “I'm sorry.” and damn if he didn't look completely sincere. 

Well shit. Okay he needed to figure what exactly was going on here because from the look on Tyler's face it maybe wasn't the same thing Dylan thought was going on. And Dylan might be righteously pissed off and all but he also tried really hard not to be a dick to people who didn't deserve it. So he needed to find out if Tyler deserved it because he was starting to suspect not.

“What are you doing here Tyler?” he asked trying to keep his voice neutral.

“I wanted to talk to you” he said quietly. “and this is your favorite spot to be by yourself and I figured you would come here eventually.” he looked at his shoes again, and Dylan was not really enjoying staring at the top of his head that much.

“Well. Why didn't you just walk up to me in the hall? It's not like I have been like hard to find or anything, for the last like four days.” A little of his frustration crept back into Dylan's voice and he did not miss Tyler's wince at that.

Tyler swallowed nervously but he answered “I didn't want to do it with the whole school watching. Just you and me. I just did it wrong I guess.” 

It was easy to forget that Tyler was a dumb kid just like him some times, what with him being so fucking gorgeous and like this amazing athlete, and super smart and shit. Seeing him looking at Dylan nervous, and sorry and uncertain made it easier to remember.

“Why'd you run away Tyler?” It was Dylan's turn to be quiet now. The answer meant to much to let anger cloud it.

Tyler's eyes got even bigger “Because of Ms. Posey! She used to be my _babysitter_! I didn't want her to see THAT!” 

Oh.

“So not because you didn't want people to find out that you -uh- liked... me?” God he really hoped that wasn't it. Hoped to that Tyler actually did like him and not that he was just a handy guy to try it out on and_

 

“What? NO, Dylan! I don't care if people know! Why do you think I got Gage to help me make that .... shirt? I was trying to like make a grand gesture! And then Posey said it just made you madder and then I really didn't know what to do! So. I. I came here. And I waited. I was really hoping-. “ He looked down at his shoes again like he was trying to hide, or protect himself. Tyler might be scared or what ever but he was brave too, because he looked right at Dylan and said “I was hoping I could talk to you and say I was sorry and maybe get a do-over.”

 

“Yeah?” Dylan asked suddenly feeling a lot lighter and not at all pissed off. At all. “What would you do with a do-over.” he asked with a smirk. He was filing that one away for later because what-the-fuck were they six years old? Later, when this was fixed or what ever, Dylan was going to give him so much shit about _that_.

“This?” Tyler asked before he leaned over and kissed Dylan right on the mouth.

Turned out kissing under the bleachers _did_ work just as well, like he thought.

 

****

 

“What did you do with the shirt?” Dylan asked. Tyler just grinned and tugged at the collar of his hoodie so Dylan could see the flash of pink underneath.


End file.
